


the thrill of it all

by moonisland



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, College, Light Angst, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-07 16:58:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12845499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonisland/pseuds/moonisland
Summary: The last thing Kei expects the moment he reaches Tokyo is for the red string around his ring finger to appear.Or, well. Reappear, technically.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> for [0rchidd](http://0rchidd.tumblr.com)! i apologize for the long delay. i took three of your prompts (soulmates, college, and fantasy/magic, though the last one is rather... debatable dhjaskgh) and this is what comes out! hope you enjoy it :)

The last thing Kei expects the moment he reaches Tokyo is for the red string around his ring finger to appear.

Or, well. Reappear, technically.

He stares at it hard, but doesn’t bother to say a word. His brother is talking loudly over the radio, laughing at some joke he makes for himself, and Kei makes a noise of acknowledgement. The car keeps moving, the view passing them without a pause, and Kei looks out the window to see more and more skyscrapers. Finally, Tokyo.

Kei sighs quietly.

“Okay?” Akiteru asks.

Kei flexes his fingers, and turns up the volume of the radio. “Yeah,” he says, and closes his eyes, turning his back slightly towards his brother. After three years, the tug on his finger is annoying, but he’s a champion in ignoring annoying things. Kei falls into a nap not three minutes later.

 

 

“How’s the big city treating you?”

Kei tries not to snort because honestly, taking a phone call while the leader of his orientation group is explaining things about their university at the front is pretty rude already, and Kei is raised to have good manners. He coughs instead, ignoring a weird look the girl beside him is giving him. “I’ve been here for two days, counting the whole day I’ve used to sleep,” he replies quietly to the microphone on his earphone’s cable. “It’s treating me alright.”

Yamaguchi laughs. There’s the squeaking sound of shoes against floor from his side. He’s probably back at the court again. He did say it’s hard to say goodbye to the team he’s been a captain of, so Kei doesn’t comment on that. “Man, you jump on that car fast. It’s not even a week after graduation! Slow down a little, Tsukki. Next thing I know you’re ignoring my calls because you’re too good for a country bumpkin like me.”

“Your imagination is fascinating, as usual,” Kei mutters dryly. “I have orientation, you know this.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to bring half of the house there already! University don’t even start for weeks.” Yamaguchi quiets down a little. There’s a loud gust of wind mixed with the static of the phone call. He’s outside, then. “You could’ve come to the volleyball team graduation party or something. You know. As an honorary ex-member.”

This time, Kei does snort. The group leader turns towards him with a raised eyebrow, but thankfully doesn’t stop talking to single him out. She simply stares at him for a bit before turning towards another freshman who raises her hand to ask something. Kei slouches down a little, trying to not stick out too much, although with his height it’s damn near impossible. Thanks, genes. “I haven’t been a member for more than two years. No one wants me to be there.”

Yamaguchi makes a protesting sound. “I do! And Hitoka does too, you know that.”

“Thanks,” he says flatly, moving along as the orientation group starts moving again. “But you know even as the captain and the manager you two can’t make them want to hang out with the person who abandoned the team in the time of need. Don’t worry, I still remember their words, you don’t have to sugarcoat it.” Kei lets Yamaguchi’s weak objection dies as he flips through the pamphlet in his hands. “And we both know they’re right. So let’s cut the bullshit and let them be bitter towards me, and let me leave them in peace.”

Yamaguchi sighs, and Kei knows it’s a sign of him giving up on the topic. The billions of times he’s brought it up makes him familiar enough with it to let him breathe it out. Honestly, Kei doesn’t know why Yamaguchi (and sometimes Hitoka, if her boyfriend gives her enough puppy-eyed expression) keeps bringing it up. After the tenth time it’s not even a bother anymore to Kei, just a small buzzing he can easily ignore. For his best friend it’s probably just a habit at this point, and no longer about persuading Kei to make amend with the team he quitted in his first year. Yamaguchi doesn’t even talk about how Kei should still play volleyball anymore, just for him to at least talk with the people Yamaguchi is friends with. To Kei, it’s an even more ridiculous discussion, but he lets him talk it out.

Just a buzzing. It’s the least Kei can do for the one person who never walks out of his life, really.

“And this is where the sport teams practice!” Their group leader’s chirpy voice pulls him away from the conversation, and Kei pulls out one of the buds in his ears to, _finally_ , listen to her. “As you can see, we have two gymnasiums, and right now their spaces are a little small because they’re sharing it to showcase their clubs, but the actual practice space for each club is much larger because there’s a schedule and everything. There’s only half of them here, and the other half will have their showcase tomorrow, but all the clubs’ pamphlet are right at the entrance there. You have fifteen minutes to look around for a bit, and then we’re continuing to the AV Hall where there are more clubs!”

The people around him disperse in small groups, talking among themselves, and the group leader walks towards some people who wear the same tees as hers, purple with a huge ‘COMMITTEE’ in orange font on the back, their university symbol right below it. Kei sighs, and starts to walk around.

Unfortunately his limbs are way too long for sudden movement in a crowded area, so he ends up bumping against a table where there is, for some reason, a tall house of cards. Which collapses the moment his hand makes a contact with the table.

He tries to steady the table, but it’s too late, and the cards fly everywhere. Someone shrieks, silencing the busy gymnasium for a few seconds, and everyone in their surrounding turns towards them. “Fuck. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. Sorry,” he mumbles, crouching to get the cards that have fallen on the floor. Some people above him curse, and Kei feels his ears burn. God damn it.

“Tsukki, what did you do?” Yamaguchi asks in his ear, equal part amused and worried.

“Nothing,” Kei grits, before he yanks at the earphone and puts it into his pocket. He just wants to get all the cards and flee to the orientation group meeting point. He’s not even interested in sport. At least not anymore. He huffs, bending down further to reach a stupid heart ace card.

A hand appears first, pulling the card towards him. Kei looks up, gratitude at the tip of his tongue, but it immediately gets swallowed.

“I got it,” the man in front of him says, a few cards already in his hand. He has a small smirk on his face, looking thoroughly entertained by the situation. “Don’t worry about it, just look very remorseful and follow my lead.”

Kei opens his mouth, not really sure what to say but feeling like he needs to reply anyway, but the man pulls the cards in his hand and heaves him up by the elbow. He’s not surprised that he’s taller than the man, but he pauses at the fact that there’s barely any difference between their height. Mostly thanks to the other’s hair that stands up to various direction, looking like he just rolls out of bed minutes before he gets there. The man puts the cards together and winks at him. Ignoring Kei’s frown, he turns towards the people standing around them, looking very annoyed. _Oh,_ Kei winces, _right._

The man spreads his arms, grinning. “Ito, my dude. My talented dude. Nice hair, as usual.”

Kei doesn’t know what it is about his tone, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment. At all. Clearly, the other person agrees, because he glares harder. “You’re the last person I want to hear it from, Kuroo.”

The man, Kuroo, laughs. “Yeah, well. This is all natural, man. None of those magic gel you use. Good magic gel, of course.”

“Shut up,” the person called Ito barks, “give me the cards. And you,” he turns towards Kei. Kei knows that despite his slight embarrassment for gaining unwanted attention, his face is void of any emotion—least of all remorse as the Kuroo person told him to put on. It probably annoys Ito even more, because he starts to move towards him. “You fucking—“

“Come on, man,” Kuroo interrupts, putting himself between Kei and Ito. “He’s a freshman, he doesn’t know any better. It’s not like he did it on purpose. Right?” Kuroo turns towards him with raised eyebrow, and Kei resists the urge to roll his eyes. He nods slightly instead, and the man snorts a little. “See, he’s cool. No need for violence.”

Ito makes a face. “I wasn’t going to be violent, I just want him to have some fucking respect.”

Kei can see that the man in front of him is about to speak again, but he interrupts him with a soft, “I’m really sorry.” The two men turn towards him, one with a frown and the other with raised eyebrows. “I didn’t mean to knock it down. I wasn’t really paying attention, and it’s really crowded.” As you should know, because it’s a goddamn orientation, so why in the world would you have a stupid house of cards in the first place, Kei doesn’t say, because he’s not stupid. Instead, he continues, trying to bend down slightly so he’s not looking down at the people in front of him. “It was a complete accident.”

The crowd around them is already slightly dispersed, and the gymnasium is filled with noises again. The man with messy hair, Kuroo, has a grin growing on his face, looking like a satisfied cat. He turns around and folds his arms in front of his chest. “And respect, you get. Surely the captain of the basketball team has enough heart to forgive a measly freshman who’s very regretful about his action?”

Kei wants to roll his eyes at the bullshit, but he keeps his face straight. Instead, he bows down again towards Ito and the people beside him. They look at each other before their gaze falls on Ito, who narrows his eyes at Kuroo, and then at him, before back to Kuroo again. “Whatever,” Ito rolls his eyes, “go back to orientation. And you can go back to your stupid club,” he scoffs at Kuroo, whose face doesn’t even twitch.

“Oh, I will, Your Highness,” he replies with a huge smile, tone clearly mocking, and turns away before the other person can reply. His eyes find Kei immediately, and his expression turns into one of amusement again. “And you,” he says.

Kei waits. He doesn’t continue, simply smirking as he stares at Kei. He schools his expression into one of disinterest. There’s something about him that annoys Kei, and it makes him feel less inclined to be polite. The man technically helps him, sure, but Kei feels more like part of a game than a clueless freshman being generously helped. So he straightens his posture, making use of his height advantage, and says “Thank you, Kuroo-Senpai,” in a tone that clearly doesn’t convey the words.

Kuroo’s eyes widen a little, clearly taken aback, but then he guffaws an ugly laugh, one loud enough to startle Kei into taking a step back. Kei doesn’t even have a chance to follow his fight or flee instinct to run away before an arm is suddenly around his shoulders, pulling him forward. He’s forced to bend down slightly, and he’s annoyed at himself for noticing how toned the body against his side is. “You’re very welcome,” Kuroo sings. “What’s your name?”

 _Manners, Tsukishima Kei._ “Tsukishima,” he replies, trying to pull away. “Uh, I need to get back to my orientation group.”

“Of course,” Kuroo says without loosening up his grip. Why is this man so fucking strong, and why is his limbs basically a goddamn stick? “But before that, you should put down your name and number for us to contact you.”

That, at least, gives Kei enough strength to stop walking. “What?”

At his obviously incredulous tone, Kuroo blinks. His grip loosens. “Oh, not because I’m hitting on you. Or any of us. Well, not now, at least. That’d be inappropriate.”

_“What?”_

Kuroo steps back, raising his hands in front of him in a surrender gesture. “For our club, Tsukishima,” he says, tone patient as if he’s talking to a toddler about a simple concept. At Kei’s silence, he continues, “I must say, it’s really our luck that one of the tallest freshmen we’ve seen today is on the bad side of the basketball team. So I should probably thank you for that.”

Kei resists massaging his temple. What the fuck is happening. “I wasn’t interested in basketball.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo says, a smirk back on his face. “Interested in sport at all?”

Kei is about to say no just so he can get away from this person, but he pauses as he finally gets a clear look at the person who just helped him out. His heart falls to his stomach.

The thing about the red string around his finger is, when “soulmates” connected by it are at close proximity (physical or otherwise), it will shine and burn and pull _hard_ , making itself impossible to miss. It appears and disappears and reappears, adjusting itself to the people on which it’s tied to and the person they’re supposed to fall in love with. Or something. It’s a concept Kei has always found silly, its’ magic rapidly disappearing as he grows up from the wide-eyed four year old he was when he first found out about his ability. To think that one day, there will be some stupid string trying to get his attention just so he can find who it’s connected to, forcing him to interact with them. It’s not something Kei likes to think about.

The gymnasium is bustling with people, loud and crowded and stuffy as hell, but Kei isn’t really sure how he’s only noticing it now. The string tightens, the red emanating from it burning his eyes, and Kei’s eyes follow it towards where the other end is tied neatly around Kuroo’s own ring finger. Lead lodges itself inside his throat.

Somehow, it’s not even the worst part. Suddenly everything the person in front of him has been saying claws at his mind, echoing loud and clear at the forefront. They need tall people for their sport. Kuroo has kneepads on, and a few of his fingers have bandages over them. It’s an injury familiar to him. He knows he’s probably jumping to conclusion, but despite having not touched a volleyball for years, Kei thinks he can pick out a player easily enough.

It feels like the universe is mocking him, and he hasn’t laughed along for years.

In the end he decides to follow the lead of the bile rising up his throat and replies, “Anything but volleyball.”

There’s a slight shock on his face, but Kuroo’s expression turn into indifference a split second later, leaving a slight smile on his face. They stare at each other for a bit, people walking around them noisily. Kei, for reasons unknown even to himself, refuses to break eye contact first. This is stupid, he thinks. He stays rooted there anyway.

In the end, Kuroo chuckles and shrugs. “Oh well, I tried,” he says. “I guess our luck ends here.”

Kei releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s holding. He gulps, and then hears some voices calling out at other orientation groups. “I need to go,” he says. There’s a slight shake on his finger. He clenches them into a fist. He bows. “Thank you again, Senpai.”

“Sure,” Kuroo replies easily.

Kei straightens up and, without making another eye contact, turns around and walks away. He finds his earphone in his pocket and traces the cable towards his phone, hand gripping it too tightly. He needs to calm the fuck down.

He barely catches it, but he’s only taken a few steps when he hears behind him, “Look for Kuroo Tetsurou from the volleyball club if you change your mind!”

Kei knows some people turn towards him. He grits his teeth and doesn’t turn back.

 _You okay?,_ he reads Yamaguchi’s text hours later, after the remaining of his day continues without any more hiccup.

Kei presses his hands hard against his eyes. It’s just a dumb sport. He types, _Yea,_ but decides to close it and delete the draft. He turns towards the wall beside his bed and breathes in the dark, ignoring the grumble in his stomach as the room turns darker when the sun sets completely. He pulls out his headphone and drowns himself in English words and heavy bass. He barely notices the pain in his gut and the tug on his finger.

 

 

Inuoka Sou is, to put it simply, very loud.

Thankfully he’s also very nice, because he takes one look at Kei’s wince at his voice and simply grins sheepishly. “Whoops, sorry. Was I too loud? Do you need any migraine medicine? I’m sure my mom packs some for me.”

“Uh, no. Thanks.” Kei sits up slowly, hand reaching towards the glasses he put on the table. He blinks several times, eyes adjusting to the light. He looks around and sees the side of the room opposite his own is already filled with open suitcases, some posters sticking on the previously bare wall. The closet on Inuoka’s side is half-filled, with what Kei assumes is half of his clothes folded on the floor. “How long have you been here?”

“Three, four hours? I got here before the sun sets. I try not to turn on the light so I won’t bother you, but then it gets too dark, and I thought you’d need dinner anyway, so I said to myself, screw it, I’m not going to let my roommate starve! My seniors told me the dinner we can buy at the dorm is kind of shit, but we can probably buy something from some convenience store around. Empty stomach will never be healthy, and my mom said I should treat others like I want to treat myself, and I would definitely want my roommate to wake me up if it’s dinner time, despite the taste of the food! So—“

Inuoka Sou is also extremely chatty, apparently. Kei says goodbye to the silence he’s grown accustomed to for the past two weeks.

His expression must have shown something, because Inuoka halts his chatter and bends down to look at his face with a worried frown. “Are you okay? You look gassy.”

Kei can’t help but chuckle a little at that. “I’m fine. Inuoka, was it?” He pushes himself off of bed, nodding a little. “I’m Tsukishima Kei.”

“Nice to meet you, Tsukishima! Wow, you’re really tall.” Inuoka pats his shoulder a few times, his grin wide. “And way too skinny! We’re eating dinner. Do you have anyone to have dinner with?”

There’s an expectant pause. Kei blinks, not expecting the other to wait for an answer, considering he’s been streaming through the conversation without even taking a breathe. Kei shakes his head, and Inuoka’s expression shifts in an alarming speed, turning a bit gloomy before it brightens up immediately. “Well, one of my best friends go here, so we can eat with him. Some seniors I’m close with are also students in this uni, so you can hang out with us! I don’t think they’ll have dinner with us, though, I’m sure they’re busy with their own friends—but if they do, I’m sure they won’t mind! They’re really nice!”

Having dinner with strangers is the last thing Kei wants, but at 18 Kei is over being unnecessarily antagonistic towards people he clearly would have to interact a lot with, so he simply nods. Beside, he’s not deluded enough to think he won’t need any connection in university. High school in a small town is one thing, and a university in the capital of the country is another. “Let me wash my face first,” he tells his roommate.

Inuoka beams at the answer, and Kei thinks there’s some kind of karma happening here because Inuoka is scarily similar to someone he never thought he’d interact with again. He shakes his head at his own thought.

Not really expecting anything, Kei feels like he shouldn’t be surprised that one of Inuoka’s “best friend” turns out to be someone just energetic as he is. The person, clearly of foreign descent, waves excitedly at the two of them the moment they reach the convenience store Inuoka and his friend plan to meet at. Kei is surprised to see that he’s significantly taller than him. “Sou!”

“Lev!” Inuoka waves back, running towards his friend before he throws himself at him with a bright laughter, clearly unconcerned about personal space. “Sorry I’m late, I was unpacking.”

Lev, as it appears to be, frowns. “Oh, I haven’t touched my luggage at all. I spent the day at the gym with Yaku-san and the others.”

“Well, it’s fine, we have another day before uni starts,” Inuoka says with a grin. The moment Kei actually reaches them (by walking, like normal people), he turns and puts a hand on his shoulder like he’s presenting a surprise. “Look who I brought!”

Kei tries not laugh at Lev’s confused expression. “I’m Tsukishima.”

Lev nods at him, his expression clearing up slowly. “Ah, of course! Inuoka’s roommate?”

“That’s me.”

“Man, I didn’t go back to my room before I go here so I haven’t met my roommate at all. The room’s empty when I left it,” Lev complains, and Kei isn’t sure if he’s talking to him or to Inuoka, because he’s facing him but Kei doesn’t think it’s a conversation to have with someone he just met ten seconds ago, so he doesn’t offer any answer. “I wish I’m bringing a new friend too!”

Inuoka laughs. “You can bring someone next time, Lev. We should eat now, I’m sure you’re starving as well.” It’s clear to Kei now that he probably spends most of his life laughing or smiling. Kei almost has a headache, but for now it’s covered by the wave of gratefulness that Inuoka seems to be at least good with any kind of people, including someone less excitable than he is like Kei, because he seems to soften his voice as he turns towards Kei when Lev skips towards the frozen food aisle in the store. He looks almost apologetic. “Sorry we’re so excited to see each other. You’d think we haven’t met for years instead of a few days ago.”

“You’re good,” Kei shrugs, and it’s true. Kei doesn’t like... most people, even actively avoids them, but it’s not like he’s forced to be there. And it’s hard to not appreciate Inuoka as a roommate, seeing how much he means well. “Your friend is also good. Thanks for bringing me.”

He grins.  
  


 

Like usual, the topic comes up fifteen minutes in, right after Kei finds out that they both plan to join the volleyball club. Which, go figure. Kei doesn’t even try to muster up a surprised expression, simply mumbles some acknowledgement and talks about how he’s only interested in graduating with a decent GPA. Neither of them look like they get it—and Kei is used to people who give their all to the damn sport, so it really isn’t a surprise there—but Inuoka has the decency to change the subject the moment Lev opens his mouth, possibly to comment on Kei’s life decision in university.

Speaking of the subject change, it isn’t one Kei is fond of, either.

“My cousin got married to her soulmate last week,” Inuoka says, mouth half-filled with some sweet potato crackers they bought along with the frozen dinner. Kei tenses, but keeps sipping on his hot tea. “She’s half-Japanese like you, Lev. It’s pretty sweet. Apparently they met online, and their strings do some freaky stuffs that make her soulmate feel compelled to go back to Japan, and they know the moment they met. It sounds weird when she explains it, but awesome at the same time.”

Kei snorts, but thankfully it’s drown out by Lev’s excited question. “The strings can do that?!”

“Apparently!” Inuoka replies, just as energetic. “I’ve never heard of something like that, but I’m not surprised. That thing is magical.”

“It’s not, really,” Kei says, mouth moving before he even realizes it. He winces when the table stops, keeping his head down as he feels the stare he can feel burning at his direction.

Lev, as he finds out in the short time they’ve had dinner, is rather shameless, so of course he’s the one who prods with a curious, “What do you mean?”

Kei almost can’t believe that Lev is his age, but then again not everyone is jagged from sarcastic defense mechanism and self-hatred. He sighs. “I mean, part of it is unexplored, but there are many advance science that can debunk some of the… well… mythical stuffs.”

Honestly, this isn’t a conversation Kei expects to have with his roommate and his roommate’s friend on the first night they meet. First hour, even. He’s envisioned it a million times, sure—to talk about it with people who aren’t his brother or his best friend, who don’t even bother to argue with him anymore. One of the downsides of living in the suburb is how glorified his condition seems to be, with the strong superstition and the rarity of it around them, and Kei is sick of being it being talked about like an abstract gift by people who see it as some kind of superpower. In the big city, one tens of times bigger than where he comes from, he’s sure there’s more depth to the discussion that’s bound to happen.

And anyway, it’s barely a superpower. Some people call it a kind of synesthesia, where some people’s sense of sight perceive another and showing them the red string in place of _something_ , and only 3% of the world population has it. At least that’s the result of a recent research Kei stumbles upon. No one can really explain the “fate” factor, though. It’s genetic, years of science can at least say, and apparently people connected through the strings apparently have higher chance of having a lasting relationship. That’s where the occult enthusiasts jump on with the word “fate”, and somehow it catches on, despite many skeptics’ cynicism.

One day the red string appears, connecting people with their soulmates, and only a select few can see it. It’s way too common to be dismissed as a myth, but too rare to be seen as ordinary, which is why a lot of people still like to bring it up in conversation. Kei has seen articles on “The Red String Phenomena” from way back.

Right now, Kei regrets opening his mouth at all. Inuoka blinks at him, and Lev is openly gaping. Just what he needs in his attempt to be civil with his roommate.

“You don’t believe in it?” Inuoka asks. His tone is casual enough, but there’s an underlying disbelief in it.

He doesn’t really see any way around it, so he simply shrugs. “I know it exists,” he clarifies when Lev, for some reason, makes a disgruntled noise. “But I don’t see it as a big of a deal. Definitely not magic. It’s just… something that is.”

Lev makes another noise, this time high-pitched. Inuoka elbows his side hard. “Okay, that’s cool,” Inuoka says, now side-eyeing Lev, whose expression looks like a cross between pain and incredulity. “Don’t mind him, his whole family is big on this kind of stuffs thanks to his parents and his sister. Yes, Lev,” he pats Lev’s face when the other boy opens his mouth, clearly ready to protest. “I know how your parents met and got married. It’s very sweet. I can write essays copying your story word per word. Thank you for sharing.”

“Don’t be mean to me,” he frowns. It’s hard to believe that someone two meter tall is pouting, but maybe nothing is impossible in university.

Inuoka grins and pats his face again. “Let Tsukishima be. Not everyone is like Nekoma, you know this. Even we have Kenma-san.” Kei doesn’t really want to know, but Inuoka turns towards him and leans forward anyway. “Nekoma is our high school. Most of us in the volleyball club are huge on this ‘red string is fate’ thing since one of us actually has the condition and can see it, and it just kind of sticks. It’s no big deal, though.”

Lev makes an offended noise but he simply keeps pouting. Kei nods. “Okay,” he says, because seriously. Had he known this will still be an issue, he wouldn’t have said anything at all. Just his luck that he ends up with people that remind him way too much of his hometown, he guesses.

Before the silence can stretch into something too awkward, Inuoka’s phone pings, right at the same time as Lev’s phone vibrates on the table. He looks at it for a second and grins. “Speak of the devil,” he says, “some of our seniors from Nekoma are coming. I hope it’s fine with you?”

Kei tries not to groan. “I can leave,” he offers. He tries to look sincere without showing that he genuinely wants Inuoka to let him go back to their room. Him not being social isn’t a reason for him to be a dick to someone who has been nothing but courteous for the whole time they’ve known each other. Manners. “You can go and have your high school reunion. I don’t mind.”

“Nonsense! You should come with!” Inuoka exclaims, already typing on his phone before he smiles brightly at Kei. “They’re like, thirty seconds away from here. They’re really nice, I swear. We won’t make it awkward or anything!”

He’s about to make up another reason to leave, going as far as pocketing his phone and wallet and pushing his chair back, ready to let excuses slip out of his mouth, when someone from behind him says, “Yeah, Tsukishima. We’ll be civilized, we swear.”

Kei freezes. No. No, no, no.

“Kuroo-san!” Lev calls out cheerfully, and Kei’s ring finger burns. Great.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to named_Juan! sorry to keep you waiting darling :’) hopefully you guys enjoy! (also i keep adding to my original draft so as you may have realized it now has… no set amount of chapters… less than 10 tho hfdsajkhfjskgh)

The evening doesn’t start with a disaster, to Kei’s surprise, but it’s slowly but surely going downhill the moment Kuroo leans towards him and says, “Don’t you think this is fate, Tsukki?”

He pretends his fingers aren’t twitching, pointedly ignoring the red at the corner of his eyes. Kei pushes down the urge to throw the water bottle in his hands to Kuroo’s face, only for the sake of being polite. He is, after all, their senior. He’s barely holding onto that reason, really. “It’s a coincidence, sure,” he says. “And please don’t call me Tsukki.”

“Oh?” Lev suddenly turns towards them, interested. Beside him, the other two seniors (Yamamoto and Yaku, they introduce themselves earlier) who are having their own conversation with Inuoka, pause as well. “What coincidence? What fate? You know each other?”

“Barely,” Kei answers, the exact moment Kuroo replies, “Very much so,” with a huge grin.

Kei stops himself from sighing too loudly.

The one called Yaku raises his eyebrows. “What did you do, Kuroo?”

“What?” Kuroo says, tone exaggeratingly innocent. Kei keeps his fingers on the label of his water bottle, peeling the label off just so he doesn’t smack that expression off of his face. He does roll his eyes, which Kuroo probably thinks is hilarious, seeing as he smirks wider. “I find that accusation very rude and offensive, Yaku. I am nothing but a perfect senior and gentleman to Tsukishima here. Isn’t that right?”

Kei keeps his expression neutral. “Your help is appreciated.”

Suddenly Yamamoto makes a squawking noise. “I remember now!” He exclaims, pointing his straw at Kei. Kei tries not to flinch from the spray of water that almost dirties his jacket. “You’re the junior who fought with the basketball club and then refused to join ours! I wonder why your frowny face is super familiar.”

He breathes through his nose. “I didn’t fight them. I made a mistake which I apologized for.”

“I helped,” Kuroo chimes in, a smirk still in place.

Kei shrugs. “Sure. I said thank you.”

Inuoka’s expression lights up. “You want to join the volleyball club? That’s awesome! If you do I won’t have to put on alarms for morning practice!” His expression sours. “I really suck at waking up.”

“I think you’re missing the part where Tora said he refused,” Yaku points out, eyes still on Kei. He looks a little calculating, though all things considered, him and Inuoka have been the only two Kei can stand. So far. “Sorry if Kuroo was a pain in the ass and that’s what repulsed you from joining us. His face has the tendency to do that.” He waves a hand to dismiss Kuroo’s loud noise of protest, leaning forward to speak to Kei seriously. “Most of us are more normal, I promise.”

Kei feels a lump growing in his throat.

Suddenly, the slight tug on his finger burns too hot, and he feels his face turning into a wince. He knows whose intense look he can feel on his face, but Kei doesn’t move his eyes away from Yaku. He schools his expression as he links his fingers together, two fingers rubbing around the pain to distract himself from the person it connects him to. “Ah, no,” he says, fingers clumsy. He feels too big in his seat, out of place, and the sudden urge to leave leaps forefront. “It’s not that. I’m just not really interested in sports. Or clubs in general. I’m probably going to be struggling with my courses as it is.”

The table quiets. Kei has gone through something like this. It’s a shit kind of reminiscence, if Kei has to ask himself.

“What’s your major, Tsukki?” Inuoka breaks the silence, looking at him with genuine curiosity. Kei isn’t sure if he knows that he just saves Kei from anxiety, but Kei breathes a sigh of relief anyway.

Until he realizes the name he uses for him. Great. Now even Inuoka, who has been perfectly decent the whole evening, is going to get on his nerves. He can barely stand it when it’s his best friend who says it, and now he has to deal with his roommate saying it just because one stupid person started it. Kei hopes it doesn’t become a habit. He grits his teeth anyway, still grateful for the change of topic. “Engineering.”

Kuroo makes a noise. “That’s my faculty as well. Department?” Kei barely holds himself back from groaning and presses his lips together harder. When Kei clearly doesn’t seem incline to answer, he smirks. “Alright, keep your cards. It won’t take long until you show it anyway.”

Yaku makes a ‘tch’ noise, sounding annoyed, though from the fact that he’s looking at Kuroo it’s probably not directed at Kei. “Stop bothering him. You’re so annoying.”

Kuroo splutters, arms waving widely in protest. “I am making a polite conversation like any normal senior does, Mom.”

“There’s this thing called ‘shut the fuck up’, works wonders when people clearly don’t want to talk to you.” Yaku turns to him, once again ignoring Kuroo’s affronted expression. “Well, you’re tall and looks super smart, so. If you ever change your mind, just tell Sou or something.”

Kei highly doubts it. “Uh, okay,” he says.

“Told him that already,” Kuroo says, and shrugs when Yaku throws him a glare. “I’m just doing my job as the club’s vice, Yaku. Stop chewing on my leg.”

“No one wants to come near your nasty unwashed feet,” Yaku says.

Kuroo glares back at him. “That’s unnecessary and irrelevant and you know it. There’s nothing wrong with my feet. The length of your legs, however...”

“Don’t bring my height into this! It has nothing to do with anything!”

“So does my feet! At least my feet are actually okay!”

“You—,” Yaku starts, and jabs Kuroo on the throat. Kei almost snorts in satisfaction at the choked noise Kuroo makes.

Yaku, on the other hand, has no problem being open with his pleased expression. Beside him, Yamamoto is laughing his ass off. To Kei’s surprise, he turns towards him the moment his laughter dies down, wiping away the tears on his eyes. “Anyway,” Yamamoto says, “don’t worry, there’s no pressure or anything. We’ve got a good turnout this year, and while it would be great, you not joining us won’t make that much of a difference.”

“Wait, you’re still going to let us join, right?” Lev suddenly asks. At the table’s pause, he narrows his eyes at his seniors. “Yaku-san?”

Yaku makes an unimpressed face. “For Sou, sure.”

“Yaku-san!”

With that, the conversation once again shifts away from him, with Lev whining at a disinterested Yaku and a laughing Yamamoto about his position on the team, Inuoka joining in with his own loud chatter. Kei doesn’t really notice it, but his shoulders relax a little, and he breathes out slowly.

Of course, the universe doesn’t seem inclined to give him a break. The moment Kei feels the tension leaves his body, he feels a nudge on his feet. He looks up, and Kuroo is looking at him as he lifts his cup towards his lips. “Wasting away your potential just so you can pretend you care about your grades is kind of a lame excuse, Tsukishima-kun,” he says, voice dripping with taunt. Kei can see the stupid smirk behind his cup of coffee. “It’s your loss, really.”

When Kei quitted volleyball in his first year of high school, he didn’t tell Akiteru for months. He knew it was hypocritical of him, knowing fully well that their fall out happened because Akiteru had lied to him just to keep some kind of faux respect and pride. It wasn’t pride for him, not exactly, but part of the reason he had gone to Karasuno _was_ for some kind of misplaced atonement for his brother, and quitting felt a lot like admitting defeat. Which wasn’t really an issue for him, but Kei had seen his brother slumped down on the ground from his own desperation, and this felt too much like the past they both tried so hard to pretend never existed.

In the end, Akiteru found out from Yamaguchi, who didn’t even know that Kei had avoided talking to his brother even more than usual. His best friend had apologized profusely that Kei hadn’t even had the heart to tell him off—if he even wanted to, which he didn’t at all. He knew he was the one running away, and he wasn’t heartless enough that he’d push the responsibilities of his own bad decisions to someone else. Not Yamaguchi, who tried his hardest to accommodate Kei’s change of pace in their dynamic, and not his brother, who looked at him like he was the one who’s guilty. Again.

“I’m sorry,” Kei had said, suddenly conscious of how young he was compared to his older brother. He felt like a child, was a child, and the issue that seemed huge for him was probably a small bubble for Akiteru. It all felt stupid and draining at the same time.

Akiteru had looked at him carefully, and told him, “I’m not mad, Kei.”

 _You should be,_ Kei had thought, but simply stared down at his fingers that he kept awkwardly intertwined. He heard his brother sighed, and Kei hadn’t felt like a scolded little child for so long that he didn’t dare look up. Akiteru had bent down then, making sure to catch his eyes. “I don’t have any reasons to, you know that. I will never think your decision is wrong. You know what’s best for you.”

“I’m a teenager, I don’t know what’s best for me,” he had said.

Akiteru had smiled. It had seemed a little too close to the smile he gave Kei when he told him that he was retiring from the club as a third year without ever stepping on one official game. “I just think volleyball holds a great amount of potential for you. But you’re my little brother. You’re good regardless.”

 _Don’t keep playing for just my sake,_ Akiteru hadn’t said, but it had settled between them like a heavy fog. Once again, neither of them acknowledged it, and that was that.

Sitting in a table full of people he has just met doesn’t seem like the ideal place for him to suddenly be reminded of this. It’s been years, and Kei isn’t the kind of person who dwindles in ‘what-could-have-been’s. His throat burns. To think that the person who pushes him into a sealed up hole is someone he never, ever wants to meet is hilarious. The pain from the string stings, and he decides that if anything, he gets to pick which game the universe pushes him into that he wants to play. This isn’t one of it. “I need to go,” he says, taking the leftovers of his dinner with him as he stands up. The table stops its’ chatter, and Inuoka turns to him with wide eyes.

“Oh, do you want me to—”

Kei shakes his head. “No, please. Have fun with your friends. I’m just tired. It’s getting late.”

Inuoka makes a face, clearly about to point out that Kei just woke up from a nap when he came this afternoon, but he seems to change his mind. It makes Kei wonder about the expression on his own face. Again, Kei feels a flash of gratitude for Inuoka’s apparent ability to read people. “Okay. Please don’t lock the door!”

“Sure.” To the rest of the table, he says, “Enjoy your evening.”

At this moment, Kuroo’s eyes stay at him. Kei can’t read the expression on his face, and he doesn’t care to. “Wait, Tsukishima—”

A sharp tug almost makes him stop, but he doesn’t. The pain flares from his finger, spreading all over, and his chest feels heavy, but he doesn’t. He knows he’s running away, knows he’s probably over-reacting to a silly provocation from a teasing senior, but his nerves are alight with anxiety, and Kei walks faster to make sure the cold air on his face keeps him from throwing up. Fantastic, he thinks. Nothing good ever comes from--from this. The sport. The bullshit around his finger. He’s closed the door on it once, and he knows even attempting to lean against the barrier is too much. Kei knows.

Fuck.

 

 

Inuoka doesn’t mention anything about the dinner or about his seniors when he comes back, though he does talk about volleyball the next morning, complaining about his sore muscles the moment Kei wakes up. Kei politely listens to him and recommends some ointment and relief patches he knows Yamaguchi and his brother use (and he used to have), and the conversation doesn’t really stray towards him, which Kei doesn’t realize how grateful he would be for. His roommate continues to decorate and tidy up his side of the room as Kei browses the internet and chats with Yamaguchi—he doesn’t tell his best friend much of anything, just a little bit about Inuoka, and he smiles at Yamaguchi’s genuine excitement at Kei’s somewhat successful attempt at making a new friendship—and they have lunch together before Inuoka excuses himself to go practice again.

“Clubs aren’t supposed to start in weeks,” Kei tells him, mostly to see his answer. He’s not surprised when Inuoka grins and talks about how he’s just “observing”, telling Kei how excited he is to officially play with the team.

Kei can never get over the irony of having him as a roommate, and he thinks he can never be sure if the fact that he’s grown enough to not be bitter about being friends with someone like Inuoka is a blessing or not. There’s a sense of satisfaction blooming in his chest when Inuoka enters his number into his phone, though, so Kei figures it may not be so bad.

 

 

The following Monday comes the start of their classes, and Kei finishes getting ready the moment Inuoka appears on their doorway, drenched in sweat. 

“Morning class?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging on his jacket. “Practice?”

“Nah, morning jog. Should probably shower, I need to find where my classes are going to be. You know yours, Tsukishima?”

Inuoka, bless him, has stopped calling him with the stupid nickname the moment Kei tells him that he’s not comfortable with it. “Yeah, I asked around during orientation.”

“Okay! Do you want to have lunch together? Lev has all his classes around noon so I’ll probably go alone.”

Kei’s sure someone as extroverted as Inuoka will find at least three lunch partner around the time comes around, but he simply shrugs. “We’ll see. I’ll text you.”

Inuoka nods and beams at him. “Have a great day!”

His enthusiasm exhausts Kei, but he’s not an asshole enough to shut down such sincerity. Maybe three years ago. Today, he smiles back. “Thanks, you too.”

The class is half-filled when Kei reaches it. It doesn’t surprise him, as it’s a class specified for freshmen, who are all new and still somewhat excitable about the idea of university. He takes a seat in the middle row, and grown as he is, morning doesn’t sound like an appealing time to socialize, so Kei simply takes out his laptop and plugs his earphone on it as he opens his music library. He puts his bag on the floor as some kind of compromise, making sure to not use the seat on either side of him so maybe there will be a semblance of conversation with new people when the lecture starts. He sighs, but he figures one or two sentences in two hours shouldn’t be too bad.

Someone immediately takes the seat, and Kei glances at the figure before freezing. He doesn’t know for sure what constitutes as a good day, but Kei is sure Kuroo Tetsurou suddenly putting his bag on the seat beside him isn’t it.

“Wait,” he says when Kei immediately gathers his belongings, ready to move away. “Hang on, don’t leave.”

The only reason Kei isn’t pulling away is because the space is way too narrow for him to do so without bumping against the table behind him, so he resorts to keeping his tight grip on his bag strap, laptop secure in his arm and ready to leave when opportunity arises. “Are you stalking me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, words not at all matching the neutral look on his face, and at Kei’s blank expression, he immediately groans. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just my pattern of speech, seriously. I don’t mean to sound so creepy.”

“Your pattern of speech is a sleazy and creepy stalker style?” Kei deadpans, and even he can feel the heavy sarcasm dripping in his words. Kuroo winces.

“I joke around a lot, is what I mean. My friends called me out on this many times, trust me. I just miscalculated."

The headache is, unsurprisingly, back. This isn’t what he means when he thinks to compromise. He shouldn’t have tried, honestly. “Miscalculated,” he repeats.

Kuroo sighs. “Please sit down. And I’m not stalking you, I promise. This is my course.”

Kei raises his eyebrows. “Aren’t you in your last year?”

“Third,” he says, now tugging Kei’s bag strap down. The nerve of this person, he swears. “I have to repeat this course because I flunked my first year. I can even give you some kind of proof if you need me to. Just, please sit down and let me talk to you for a bit. If it annoys you so much I can move before class starts.” The desperation in his voice makes him a little hesitant to dismiss the older man entirely, and Kuroo must have seen it, because he immediately latches to it and says, “Surely you don’t want to keep being the center of attention, Tsukishima? The girls in front of us seem ready to pull out their cameras and start recording us.”

At this, the girls who do sit a couple of rows in front of them squeak and turn around. Kei narrows his eyes at them, then at Kuroo, before he sighs and finally sits down.

“Thank you,” he says, and finally Kei notices the different way he carries himself. It’s weird to Kei how surprisingly sincere he sounds, with no teasing or provocation laced around it—just a simple gratitude breathed out in two words. Kei stares at him. Before his head can process it, however, Kuroo starts, “Okay, I really need to apologize.”

There’s a pause, heavy between them. Kuroo looks at him, and when Kei keeps his silence he continues. “What I said was really out of line, and I didn’t really mean it as… well, it doesn’t really matter what I mean. It clearly bothered you, and for that I genuinely apologized. I shouldn’t have said shit like that.”

And that. Well. That was… something. Kei has to make sure he’s not gaping at the older boy. It takes him so much by surprise that he automatically says, “There’s no need for—”

“No, no, there definitely is. I tried to be cheeky and tease a junior but I went too far and that’s on me. Sorry for being an annoying piece of shit.”

Kei thinks he can’t be blamed for staring. Hard. He knows he’s probably not blinking, because Kuroo fidgets in his seat, but he doesn’t look away either. He looks mostly resolute, although Kei notices a hint of discomfort. At this, Kei decides to give him a little mercy. “I really wouldn’t call you that. You don’t have to go that far.”

Kuroo sighs, his shoulders slumping. There’s still tension in them, but Kei’s cordial agreement probably gives him a little peace of mind. “Well, sorry for being annoying regardless. Like I said, my friends have told me that I’m annoying, repeatedly, so you won’t be the first to think that. If it’d make you feel better, Yaku nagged at me for two days straight after you went home. It was hell.”

There’s a tug at his lips, and Kei can’t help but chuckle. “It does make me feel better,” he says, because he can’t help it. “Sorry.”

“Man, don’t even apologize,” Kuroo waves a hand in a dismissive gesture. “I probably should be ashamed to say it’s not even the first time I’ve gotten it from him, nor the worst. However way you wanted to smack me on that night, I assure you that Yaku has done it before.”

“Good to know.”

“So,” Kuroo says. He turns back to Kei, and once again the sincerity in his eyes surprise Kei. There’s no hint of teasing that Kei has associated with Kuroo from their previous encounters, and for some reason that makes his fingers move towards the familiar tug he’s forgotten. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

Kei keeps his fingers on the string, feeling the slight warmth it emanates. “Okay,” he says, because honestly, what else can he say to that?

Kuroo looks at him, and instead of the usual smirk he adorns his face, there’s a soft smile in its’ place. “Do I need to move?”

The way Kuroo says it, like he holds no certain expectation from Kei, makes his blood rushes a little. It’s so stupidly simple and Kei feels a bud of annoyance appear in his chest for getting so affected by nothing at all. Kei digs his fingers against his palm hard to make it stop. The red string shines brilliantly. He wishes, hard, that no one in the damn class can see it. “Stay on your seat and don’t bother me.”

Kuroo leans back on his seat, finally putting down his bag on the table. “Duly noted, Tsukki.”

“Don’t call me Tsukki.”

“But Tsukishima is too long! Unless I can call you Kei?”

Kei rolls his eyes. “Don’t push it.”

“Fine, fine. Duly noted, Tsukishima.”

Kei can feel his lips twitch, and he refuses to turn towards the man beside him, who has now started snickering, probably noticing Kei’s attempt not to laugh. He elbows his side and lets out a soft laugh when Kuroo loudly coughs.

“Glad to see my pain is a source of amusement for you, Tsukishima.”

He’s about to reply, but then the professor enters the room and he refuses to acknowledge the man beside him anymore. If he swats the other a couple times and gets distracted a little in the middle of the lecture, well, it’s all Kuroo’s fault, really.

 

 

Despite his own better judgement, Kei agrees to Kuroo’s lunch offer. He tells himself it’s because Inuoka texts him that one of his professors already gives his class an assignment (‘on the first day!!!’ Inuoka says on the text, complete with a barrage of crying emojis) and he needs to discuss it with his group mates, and Kei doesn’t really fancy walking around in confusion looking for a lunch venue. Kuroo has already been a student for years, so having lunch with someone who knows a good place won’t be too much of a loss.

“Somehow, I’m not surprised that your favorite place is a hole in the wall like this.”

“Hey!” Kuroo exclaims, bumping his shoulder against Tsukishima’s as they enter the small restaurant. It’s so generic that Kei is sure he would miss it has he passed it alone, but Kuroo pulls him into the place with a strong sense of familiarity. It looks weird to Kei, because the restaurant is so tiny that even just the two of them in it makes the place feels really cramped up already, but Kuroo easily maneuvers them into a table, waving at the cook behind the counter. “Don’t disrespect this place, okay? I can bet the food is going to make you eat your words.”

Kei raises an eyebrow as he takes a seat. “I wasn’t even insulting it. It looks like a respectable enough place. Just…” He looks around. It really is a nice enough place. It’s clean and seems cozy, at least. He looks at the menu displayed on the huge poster on the wall, filled with traditional Japanese food. A waiter comes towards their table, placing a smaller version of the menu in front of them along with two glasses of what looks like hot tea. Kei nods politely at her. “I wouldn’t have thought to eat this kind of food for lunch. Between classes in uni."

Kuroo leans back on his seat, looking strangely satisfied at that. “Let me teach you the wonder of university life, young padawan.”

Kei gives him a weird look, and Kuroo grins sheepishly. “No, thanks,” he says, flipping the menu and ignoring Kuroo’s high-pitched whine.

“Oh, come on!” Kuroo doesn’t touch the menu, probably already knowing what to get, so Kei raises a hand to catch the waiter’s attention. “You won’t regret it, I swear. I stumbled upon this place my second year so you better be grateful that I’m sharing this place with you on your first day. I don’t like sharing my favorite places to just anyone.”

“I am very flattered,” Kei says flatly, turning towards the waiter to ignore whatever response Kuroo has for his sarcasm. The moment the waiter disappears towards the kitchen, Kuroo leans towards him, folding his arms in front of his chest and looking at Kei with a small smile. Kei sips at his green tea, feeling stupidly bare and self-conscious. “What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs. “You look much better without a frown, is all.”

“I’m not always frowning,” Kei frowns. Damn it. “Some people just tick me off.”

“You’re always frowning with me!”

Kei hides a smile behind his drink. “Yeah, I said what I said.”

Kuroo presses a hand on his chest, faking a pained expression. “Ouch. I guess I deserve it.” He grins, although there’s an apologetic nuance to it. “I really am sorry, though. Most of my friends gripe me harder than I tease them or are too thick-headed to be offended, so I forget to reel it in most of the time.”

Kei, unconsciously, leans forward as well, donning a bored expression. “Are you going to keep apologizing? Because I’m not going to keep answering if that’s the case.”

Kuroo’s grin widens, and this time, there’s a familiar goading attitude. “Nah, it’s the last time. You’re way too nice, Tsukishima.”

Kei still finds it extremely annoying, but somehow he doesn’t feel like he minds dealing with it as much, somewhat. His eyes catch the string that pulls taut between them, closer and shorter than ever. “You just said I’m always frowning,” Kei reminds him. “And you’ve only met me a couple times, I don’t think that’s enough to warrant any character judgement.”

“Well, a couple times is enough for me to see that you’re a good kid.” He nods to himself, touching his chin in a mock thoughtfulness. “The frown is just a quirky perk. Gotta take the whole package, you know? Get the bad with the good, et cetera.”

Kei rolls his eyes at that, and Kuroo laughs at that, loud and open. “We’re only two years apart, stop talking like my distant uncle,” he says pointedly, letting his lips get pulled into a half-smile by the sound of Kuroo’s laughter. It’s so stupidly ugly that Kei can’t help it, honestly. “And I don’t think you’d know that much from two meeting, Kuroo-san.”

“Wanna bet?” Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows, once again guffawing at Kei’s expression. “And since you’re doubting me so much, I’m giving you permission to judge me. It’s only fair.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Come on. A free ticket to analyze and make judgement on someone who promises not to be offended? There’s no way anyone is going to pass this opportunity.”

Kei snorts, but it’s mostly out of amusement and less of annoyance. “Pass.”

“Tsukki!”

He makes a face. “Don’t—”

“Call you that, I know,” Kuroo huffs. “Seriously though, Tsukishima is way too long. Give me some passes, okay.”

“My name is fine.”

“Your name is very fine, very pretty and amazing, but also way too long, These facts don’t cancel each other out.”

God, what are they even talking about? He knows he probably shouldn’t think too much about it, but Kuroo’s words turn his face a tad warmer, which is just ridiculous. He feels like he’s dug a hole too deep for him to climb out of from, but he shoves the thought to the back of his mind. “You have a very strong opinion on my name, I see,” he says instead.

Kuroo gives him a smile, although Kei can’t exactly read his expression. “I just love stating facts,” he says, lifting his tea to his lips with his eyes still on him. Kei feels like he misses a joke there, but Kuroo starts again before he can dwell on it longer. “Now give me some opinions. Be judgemental. Give me the dish, what’s good about me, what’s bad? We don’t have all day, Tsukishima.”

They really don’t, as evident from the waiter suddenly interrupting their talk with their order. The food comes piping hot, and Kei gives Kuroo a pointed look before he digs into his food. He doesn’t really feel like eating—although to be fair, he never really does—but anything to make Kuroo shut up. Kuroo, taking the hint, simply grins before he takes a chopstick and starts on his own food.

It’s the first day of university, and somehow, Kei ends up in a hole in the wall restaurant with the senior he couldn’t even stand mere hours before, enjoying their food in silence. He thinks the weirdest part of the whole ordeal is the fact that despite the blaring way the red string catches his eyes, Kei barely even notices it there sans the time it tugs slightly on his skin. He doesn’t know if it’s saying something about him or about the nature of the stupid string, and honestly, Kei would rather he not know.

It is extremely distracting though, now that Kuroo isn’t yapping enough to take his mind off of it. Kei eats his food a little grudgingly, receiving a curious look from Kuroo, but for the most part they don’t really talk until Kei breaks the silence himself, unnerved by his own inability to shut out the only thing hogging his attention. “You’re not bad,” he offers, words shaped weirdly on his tongue. It probably is weird, for him to just say it out of the blue.

To his credit, Kuroo simply pauses his chewing and stares. “Not bad? That’s all?”

“We barely know each other,” Kei shrugs, but he smiles between his chews. For some reason, this feels like the response he looks for from Kuroo.

Kuroo gives him an offended look, although by the way he flails his arms around Kei can deduct that he’s joking. And the fact that he wipes away a fake tear from his eyes. “We had approximately two and a half heart to heart since this morning, how could you tell me I’m nothing?”

Kei purses his lips in amusement. “I mean, if that’s what you’re hearing.”

Kuroo gasps loudly, slapping a hand on his mouth. It’s so absurd that Kei doesn’t know why he’s putting up with it, but it just pulls a small laugh out of him. The other arches his eyebrow at him, looking amused. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“I thought I’m nice?” There’s a challenge in the tone of his voice, Kei knows, but he puts a saccharine smile at Kuroo’s narrowed eyes.

“Don’t get sassy with me,” Kuroo points at him with his chopsticks. “Man, I can’t believe I’m unleashing all this potential in you just by not being a dick. What other gems can I dig out, I wonder?”

Honestly, at this point, it feels stupid to be pulled into his game. Especially so when he knows exactly what he gets into. Despite all this, Kei says, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Kuroo’s eyes widen, and there’s a beat of silence where Kei thinks he makes a mistake, but then Kuroo guffaws. He truly has the ugliest laugh Kei has ever heard, but the sound still makes a grin spread on his face. Again. God damn it. “You’re amazing, you know that?” Kuroo asks, still sounding stupidly sincere despite the pleased expression on his face. “I hope you’re having as much fun as I do right now.”

A beat, two beats, and Kei shuts it down once again. “It’s alright,” he replies, a smile still in place.

The rest of the meal continues in relative silence, but when the bill comes, Kuroo leans towards him and whispers loudly, nudging at his side. “The reason why I’m not bad is because the food here is really good, isn’t it.”

Kei doesn’t think he can be blamed for the laugh he lets out. “It’s a really good food,” he replies, and Kuroo nods in satisfaction as he laughs along with him. Two six-feet-tall students laughing to each other in a cramped restaurant. It paints a ridiculous picture, and it might scare Kei how much he doesn’t mind it, but mostly Kei just feels light even as their fingers brush. The touch is electric, but Kuroo doesn’t stop laughing, and Kei doesn’t pause to look down.

 

 

“Can I have your number?” 

They’re nearing the building of their department, and Kei pauses his steps to turn to Kuroo with raised eyebrows. The expression on Kuroo’s face tells him that he probably expects Kei’s reaction. “It’s not for anything inappropriate, I promise. I’m annoying but I’m not a criminal. I won’t even send you annoying good morning texts unless you want to. Although I have to say, I send the best good morning texts. My friends all subscribe to it, even those who hate me in real life.”

Kei isn’t really sure which part of the sentences he should be concerned about. “You call people who hate you your friends?”

Kuroo shrugs, a smirk on his face. “I mean, they don’t have me blocked from their lives, so if they can live with me bothering them, then we’re friends enough.”

“Must be a lot of them,” Kei comments, although the smile on his face probably softens the blow of his words.

“Hey,” Kuroo protests, elbowing his side gently, but he’s laughing. As his laugh quiets down, he turns to Kei, his expression turning somber. “You’re not obligated to. I’m just asking in the small chance you’d say yes.”

Kei isn’t sure what to say in the face of such sincerity, so he says, “You must really want my number.”

Kuroo smiles. “I won’t say no to sending you good morning texts, is all.”

He shouldn’t probably. Just a few days ago this man has sent him into a mild panic attack, and the string still connecting them has been a plague in his mind since he arrives in Tokyo. Getting closer to him feels like a mistake, or at least a placency he doesn’t want to grant the universe. But then Kuroo pushes his hands into his pocket, face void of any push or expectation, standing there like he’s the one opening himself bare for Kei to pick on just by asking for his number. There’s a softness in his expression that Kei can’t quite put his fingers on, unable to come up with any definition.

In the end he raises his palm in askance, and Kuroo beams at him as he pulls out his phone.

“Please don’t spam me in the morning,” Kei says, taking Kuroo’s phone and entering his digits. Like everything with Kuroo, this feels like a mistake, but at the same time it feels natural to just let it happen. Kei doesn’t know when he’s come to accept the flow without as much fight, honestly. Yamaguchi and his brother will be proud.

Kuroo, on the other hand, looks delighted when he looks at his phone, probably typing ridiculous name for Kei. He seems like the type. “Now, now, I always give a small teaser of what I offer in this subscription, so you can make a totally informed decision. Also, you said no mornings, so I take dibs on sending it on any other time of the day. Ha!”

Kei gives him a look. “I’m going to block you.”

“I’m glad we’ve come to an agreement,” he grins.

Kei shakes his head at that, letting the small smile appear on his face. Seriously. “You’re ridiculous,” he says out loud, just because, and Kuroo wiggles his eyebrows like it’s a praise. A mistake, Kei thinks, and doesn’t mind. “And I have class, so I should go. Thanks. For lunch. And…” His voice falls softer. He gulps, shrugging. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Kuroo replies easily, shrugging back with a smile, teasing. “And thanks for saying yes. To lunch. And the number. And my apology.” He pauses, rubbing his chin with his fingers. “I have a lot to be grateful for today, huh.”

Kei snorts. “It’s nothing.”

This time it’s Kuroo who sends him a look that Kei can’t quite guess the meaning of. It should probably unnerve Kei, and it does, but there’s not spike of annoyance following it. He doesn’t know how to feel when he realizes that the gentleness in it is a big reason for it. He ignores the slight pull he feels. After a beat, Kuroo simply says, “The right answer is ‘you’re welcome’, Tsukishima.”

“Right,” he says. He feels strangely disoriented, but he steps back and breathes in. Don’t look down, don’t look down. “You’re welcome. I—I’m going. I should go.”

“Okay. Have fun with Professor Kawata. She’s ruthless.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“See ya?”

Kei feels like he’s going to regret it. He already is. “Yeah, see you,” he replies.

 

 

**˓˓** **ฅ** **₍** **˄** **ุ** **.͡ ̫.˄** **ุ** **₎** **ฅ** **˒˒ (1.12)**

**my teaser. ur welcome. (1.12)**

Kei has to stopped himself from snorting. Professor Kawata, as Kuroo warns, is annoyingly strict. Kei has no problem with it, but it does make laughing in the middle of her lecture seems like a bad idea. He probably shouldn’t have opened the text in the first place, but she’s simply going through the syllabus for the first meeting, droning on and on as she reads from the handout she gives to the whole class, and Kei thinks there’s no harm in simply turning over his phone when it vibrates beside his pencil case. Clearly, he was wrong.

**(1.16) What even is that?**

**it’s a cat!! can’t u see its little paws :3 (1.16)**

**(1.17) No.**

**(1.17) There’s an actual cat emoticons, you know. One that somewhat resemble a cat.**

**now wheres the fun in that** **ლ** **(=** **ↀ** **ω** **ↀ** **=)** **ლ** **(1.17)**

This is ridiculous. He types up something before he puts his phone in his bag and ignores the following vibration throughout the lecture.

Kei doesn’t bother taking out his phone until he’s at his dorm at the end of the day, after he’s done with all his classes, and at that point he’s got a number of texts from the same number. He’s not even surprised at this, and he replies to the text from Yamaguchi and his mother first before he taps on the last text. Or, well, texts.

**(1.17) The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.**

**thats just rude (1.18)**

**tsukki (1.21)**

**jokes on u bc it mustve taken a long time to type it (1.25)**

**tsukkiiiiiiiiiiii (1.35)**

**im gonna assume kawata take ur phone and break it w her bare hand (1.51)**

**in case ur wondering yes shes done it before shes amazing i want her to adopt me (1.51)**

**(4.22) Don’t call me that. And I recalled telling you not to spam me.**

**sorry. finished classes ok? dont need to answer (4.24)**

There’s a sharp tug, and it takes Kei a second to realize that it comes from his chest. He sighs, slightly annoyed, but he’s not even surprised at it.

**(4.25) It’s alright. Thank you for asking. Have a good day.**

**thanks** **ฅ** **(** **⌯** **͒• ɪ •** **⌯** **͒)** **ฅ** **n (4.25)**

Kei sighs. As absurd as it is to him that such simple gestures from Kuroo affects him this much, Kei has enough self-awareness to admit Kuroo is an enigma that he can’t figure out just yet. He can blame his curiosity maybe, but he realizes that the discrepancy between his teasing nature and how genuine he is is something that draws him in. Beneath his provocative words and sharp teasing, it’s apparent even from the short moments they have that Kuroo is extremely thoughtful, although he always masks it with a series of convoluted jokes. Grudgingly, Kei admits that it’s impossible to not be charmed by it, and he knows that as much as he wants to blame the string on his finger, Kei has never really met someone like Kuroo Tetsurou.

The burn doesn’t sting as it usually is, and Kei doesn’t know if it’s because of his half-acceptance or because Kuroo is, surprisingly, an accommodating factor in the whole thing. When he realizes what the string around people’s fingers mean, he knows that it’s mostly teenage rebellion that puts him off from the whole concept. The idea that some force of nature out there is dictating his life doesn’t seem appealing, and he refuses to lie back and let it rolls him around in his own life. It’s a childish decision by nature, made when he’s barely grown despite his own belief.

It’s still unappealing as it was when he was twelve, but Kei likes to think he isn’t rooted in the same place he was years ago. As things around him change, Kei doesn’t feel like he softens, exactly, but he learns more to own up to his own mistakes. The fact that the sharp tug has turned into a gentle pull, that the bile that’s used to rise at the back of his throat has disappeared entirely—it still feels like a joke he can’t laugh along with, but somehow the press against his chest doesn’t feel as suffocating as it usually is.

He glances at the text on his phone. Maybe, just maybe, Kuroo Tetsurou isn’t as big of a mistake as he initially thinks.

 

 

 **(6.37) There’s no way she broke a phone with her bare hands.**

**HAHAHA (6.37)**


End file.
